


The question of how it ended here

by NeverBeenACorpse



Series: Gotham Boys [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, I want to add more tags, Just cute shit, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, domestic love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9990623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverBeenACorpse/pseuds/NeverBeenACorpse
Summary: Edward Nygma wonders about how his life turned out like this. How he evolved from nobody to the right hand of the King of the Underworld in Gotham. How that relation is so much more then just business, and how it's far from perfect. But still quite more then enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small thing, after finishing the produced Gotham-episodes, and following pretty much every Nygmobblepot-tumblr I could find... bcs science?  
> Also it's not edited or anything, I might have missed something or forgotten a plot-line. Pls tell me if so, and be warned!

Sometimes, Ed wondered how he’d gotten here. 

Where the train-tracks started for this ride into depths unknown. 

Right now, he knew that his feet had led him from bed, to the bathroom, hands reaching for the toothbrush, waiting for Oswald to hand the toothpaste over, and then beginning to brush. He knew that, as it had happened in the last moment, and that he now stood beside Os, looking into the mirror at them both, wondering the the sight of the two of them. 

Os was to sleep-drunk still to keep his eyes up; Ed noticed that it made him smile, seeing him like this. Vulnerable, casual. Seeing sides of him that no one ever saw, the domestic Oswald, before he donned his coat, made that ’disco vampire’-thing to his hair, as Barbra called it, and before he let the cold eyes of the Penguin take over. 

Seeing Oswald as nothing more then Oswald. A quite irregular human, defects included, that limp and his ability to feel way too deep for someone in his position should. 

He was a Don, a _killer_ ; he shouldn’t be able to hold that much love in his eyes as he did now. He just shouldn’t, and it caught Ed off guard - still lost in thoughts, Os had turned to meet his eyes in the mirror, smiling, still with toothbrush in his mouth, and it was too much. Os shouldn’t make him feel like this. Ed shouldn’t be able to feel like this. 

He killed the people he loved. 

Or, he thought he did. He’d killed Kristine. He’d not killed Isabela, not directly, but as Os had said, it was only a matter of time. And now he was standing next to someone who so clearly loved him, and he wasn’t even afraid. 

He met those eyes, a small smile, and watching Os go back to getting ready, cleaning up and limping back out into the mansion, it made him realise that this was his reality now. 

They even shared a bed. 

They where and item in the criminal and official world now - the mayor and his chief of staff, the Penguin and his right hand, and Ed still felt a bit of vertigo at times. 

Standing next to Oswalds chair at the head of the table, the other Dons and their goons showing muscle and arguing, but in the end giving Os the respect he deserved. Demanded. And Ed would stand by his side, be a part of that, watching the criminal masterminds watch him with the same respect they gave Os, passing their eyes over the right hand of the Penguin and know that if they ever laid a hand on him, the wrath would be endless. 

As it had been shown, several times, by the Penguin himself - Ed was under his personal protection. Os would use the whole of his hidden and official resources to find Ed and extract revenge upon any who’d hurt him. 

And, as most of these criminals knew, Ed where the one to first show them this fire. 

They knew to fear them both, as individual masterminds, and now, with them so clearly being an item, their shared strategy and intellect. 

They never rebelled, even if they’d still threaten it. They’d always back down, submit under the Penguins rule, and give a nod of the head with a clear ’yes boss’ as they carried out his wishes. 

They knew to fear them both. 

Finishing up his morning routine, Ed felt the power of that knowledge flow through him, a shiver up his spine, and gave a last look into the mirror. 

He watched Dark Edward give him a tip of the green hat, and a proud wink. 

 

Oswald was buttoning up his shirt, having gone through quite a few different for today, always picky with his attire, and as Ed walked out of the lavatory, he headed straight for that struggling dark-head. Os was too caught up in his own reflection, battling the buttons, and didn’t see him sneak up, didn’t react until Ed curled his arms around him from behind, head on Os’s shoulder. A casual hug, while helping with the ungrateful buttons. 

He felt Os tense, at first, still not fully used to the closeness of a partner, always mistaking it for something sinister at first reaction, but he quickly leaned into the embrace, head leaned back over Ed’s shoulder, his arms relaxing at his side. 

When it was done, Ed took care or the rest of the buttons as well, and then adjusting the neck-piece, still feeling the warmth and comfort from Os leaning against him, a bit reluctant to let go. The embrace became a hug, both of them stuck in the moment, Os with closed eyes and Ed still watching the reflection of them both. 

It was weird. Really weird. For a moment, he saw them both as the world knew them - the Mayor of Gotham and the Riddler, The Penguin and the Madman from Arkham Asylum, the cane in Os’s hands and the green hat on Ed’s styled hair, the power behind them both; their intellect and goons and half the population of Gotham supporting them. 

Another moment of vertigo. 

Even more so when Os turned his head, kissed his cheek, smiled at him with open, loving eyes, before staggering away to get his coat for the day. 

Ed was left with nothing but the mirror reflection of him, in boxers and under-shirt, hair askew. He pushed up his glasses. Was this the person Os really loved?

 

Discussing business with the other families was always tedious, in Ed’s opinion. Os seemed to practically revel in it, at times, and it confused Ed somewhat. He liked seeing this part of Os, unhinged and powerful despite his posture, the respect for him clear in the eyes of everyone present. 

It was almost always about sex. Prostitution, scandals, playthings that ran away or liaisons that ended in catastrophe. Ed thought them all weak, disgusted with the shameless bragging of sexual conquest or number of visitors to their local porn-club. 

Ed didn’t share their fascination with it, and even though Os could chat with them like any other, he knew it was mostly a facade. 

They did share moments of intimate nature, but not of the same kind these idiots bragged about. It was more the closeness of each other, loose clothes over timid bodies in the dark behind closed curtains, erections rubbed and pressed and release easily contained and discarded. 

The first time had been different, though. They’d both wanted to prove themselves, give a sheen of being these powerful sexual beasts as these meetings seemed to consist of. Ed had been a bit too forward, ripping clothes without really knowing the purpose of doing so, and Os had been too eager with his lips and tongue, shouting in pain as Ed bent his leg the wrong way, pressing his body under his own, trying to reach climax as intensely as they thought they needed to prove their longing for each other. 

They’d reached there, sure, but they had spent more time afterwards with just being close, almost undressed, just touching and embracing and feeling each others warmth. Afterwards, they’d been able to laugh it off, both blushing because of the pathetic nature of it all, both knowing that they’d been slaves under the expectation that was ’normalcy’. 

They’d shared a few more nights like that, the intense need for realise the main character between them both, but it was rare. And as the comfort between them grew, the less Ed felt the need to prove his prowess by sexual means, and he was sure Os felt the same. They could share a lot, without it being overshadowed by penetration and climax. It could play a part in their shared moments, but it was never the main goal, or even all that important. 

They could share so much more during their time alone, and after the first night they’d spent just laying in bed, looking at each other, unable to stop smiling or cease holding hands, their breath mixing and gloom turning to darkness turning to the glowing rays of sunrise, they knew there was things more important between them then this sexual demand. 

 

Oswald would still meet with James Gordon at times, for different reasons. Trading favours, or giving the press a first-page photo-op, or shaking hands in front of the GCPD over discussing the intricacies of police in a constantly changing town. At times, this made Edward jealous. When Os would be late, miss dinner, sending a short-worded mess about him being ’held up’ by current events, and Ed could sit at the table in the diner, or in the couch by the fireplace and think about all the times Oswald had visited Gordon earlier, while Ed himself still worked for the GCPD, the looks and whispered words they’d shared and he’d overlooked, the secret glances Os threw at Gordons turned back, just the whole situation of James Gordon coming to The Penguin to trade favours. 

Ed could fall down into that hole of jealousy and dark rage, his mind flooding with dark plans and plots to once again try and de-throne the famous James Gordon, the Riddler whispering words in his own ears about how he’d never be loved for real, how he’d never be enough for the Penguin, how the nights they shared was all just second choice for the King of the Underworld. 

It was a deep hole. It was filled with a lot of everything Ed never felt anywhere else, thoughts he’d never think otherwise, and in those dark moments, he let himself feel them fully. 

Because when Oswald returned, which he always did, they all disappeared. Every last thought and feeling, gone, as soon as their eyes met and Ed could see the love for himself, so plain in his eyes, that limping gait towards him, the hug and kiss they sometimes shared, even with nothing more then hours between their last embrace. 

Sometimes it was more, or less. Sometimes the thoughts stayed with Ed even down into their bed, jealousy and anger fighting for control, the dark parts of him whispering threats and truths that no one could ever know. 

Sometimes it lingered for days. 

Sometimes Os didn’t come home. 

Sometimes it was the worst moments of his life, and he knew it. At times, he’d found himself on the bathroom floor, hugging a discarded bathrobe, knowing with his whole heart that everything they shared was false. Pretend. 

And then, Os would come back. They’d share a night, a whole night, in front of the fireplace, in each others arms, feeling every feeling they ever felt for each other, knowing that this was not perfect, they were not whole, that they had wounds that would never heal. No matter how much love they poured from how deep from themselves, there would still be need for more, and they knew it. 

 

They had different ways of handling it. 

Os had his underworld empire to run - and Ed found his own distraction in the way of riddles and mazes. 

It was impressively effective - at times. Woefully destructive every time it was not. As it was for Os - not that they taked about it. Words wasn’t enough. Sometimes, a night together was enough. Sometimes they’d fight. 

And those fights where legendary, in their own right. Ed casually wondered if Gordon and the GCPD knew that this little love affair was the cause for so much illegal activity in the underworld of Gotham. That the bayside kidnapping, the one where little Bruce Wayne was exposed to much darker truths then one so young should know, was because of Oswald spending too long at the GCPD. 

Ed had reached the end of his patience, not that he had much, and the Riddler had caused such havoc. Such chaos, a few deaths. It had been a weirder time, then, when this partnership had been quite new still. 

Before Ed knew that Os always came back. 

Because he always did. Always do, 

 

So now, when he’s standing here, watching Os take the stride of the King of the Underworld, the feared and respected Penguin taking the front seat for now, he was quiet. For a while. Watching the handkerchief he’d picked, tucked carefully into Os’s front pocket, a beautiful white flower on purple background with dark green leaves flowing around it. 

It fit his outfit. 

Complemented his shirt and jacket in a very tasteful way. 

 

Purple for the Penguin. 

Green for the Riddler. 

And the single white flower. Because, well, love that never dies. 

Even if it’s not perfect. Doesn't mean it's unwanted. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr: InsanitysQueen or NeverBeenACorpse  
> Comment and leave kudos if you like <3  
> And thanks for reading


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